Let's See If That Saves Her Marriage

Danielle Renae stares at Axel Haze like he just offered her his left kidney. She's laid it out plain: she and Axel's dad haven't touched each other in forever, and she's ready to file. Axel grins, big and cockeyed, throws his arm along the back of the couch. "Look," he says, "you can't go off and get divorced. You're the greatest stepmom a guy could screw up with. Let me fix this." She blinks. Calls him ridiculous, a little gross. Axel shrugs, offers himself like dessert on a silver tray. It would all stay secret, right? Something about her eyes softens. It's ridiculous. She has taken rules at their word before, and look where it got her. Might as well taste what's been shoved right under her nose. So she drops between his knees, tongue flicking across her bottom lip, and fishes his cock out of his shorts. Thick, already half-hard from the nerve of the whole idea. She wraps her hand around the shaft, mouth hot, and takes him slow so he feels every inch disappear. Spit runs down, her throat flexes when she bottoms out, and Axel groans like he just won the lottery. She hums on him, strokes the base in time, drags her tongue under the head, glurk, gluck, when she comes up for air then sinks again. Balls tight and getting wet from her slobber, the whole couch creaking as her shoulders pump, her head bobbing faster. Danielle holds eye contact when she can, mascara lightly smudged now, spit glittering on her chin. No ceremony. Just her mouth working, throat milking him, swallowing every drop when he finally bursts with a rough grunt, semen splashing her tongue and sliding hot down her throat. She wipes her mouth with a knuckle, half-grinning, half-shaking her head at what they've just done. The marriage hangs there, somewhere between saved and royally screwed.